


Assassins, Princes and Kings

by MrsMavenMoriarty



Category: Red Queen - Fandom
Genre: Assassins, F/M, Red Queen - Freeform, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMavenMoriarty/pseuds/MrsMavenMoriarty
Summary: Maven Calore never had friends. Not until she arrived. The Red girl with abilities beyond anything he’d ever seen before. She was the first person to really see him, and to favour him over his brother. She’d be by his side, no matter what, with an easy smile and teasing remark ready on her lips. Even his mother liked her. But then, Mare Barrow arrived.
Relationships: Elane Haven/Evangeline Samos, Evangeline Samos & Ptolemus Samos, Mare Barrow/Maven Calore, Mare Barrow/Tiberias Calore VII, Maven Calore & Elara Merandus, Maven Calore/Original Character(s), Original Character(s) & Elara Merandus
Kudos: 12





	1. Athera

The corridor is cold, despite the weak sun filtering through the malevolent slate-coloured clouds. My boots barely make a sound on the floor despite being the most inutile, impractical things I have ever worn. An obviously intoxicated Silver woman staggers down the hallway, breath stinking with the sour stench of bad wine. I ignore her, pushing past as politely and unassumingly as I can. She is so drunk, I doubt she even saw me, let alone registered my rudeness. 

I push open the study door, ducking my head apologetically. There isn’t any use, though. The Silver titans in the room don’t look at me. The lowly red-blooded servant is below their notice, below them. I quietly pad around the great table, trying my best to take quiet steps. I sigh silently as I reached the waste paper basket. I find it comforting that even Silvers need waste paper baskets, that even they need a place in which to dispose of their mistakes. It makes them seem just a little bit human.  
“I say we make camp here, then lead on at first light.” The Crown Prince’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. From my position at the corner of the room, I can see the map of the Choke, with powerful Silver lords crowded around it like ravens with a carrion. 

“Very good, Tiberias, excellent.” the King ruminates. The Queen purses her lips, displeased, at his side. I know she sees the tactical disadvantages as well as I can. I can see the curly haired boy - the Prince Maven - by her side open his mouth to interject but his mother’s piercing look is enough to stop him in his tracks. I think she should’ve let him speak. This plan is obviously moronic, and would cost thousands of Red lives if carried out. Any tactician worth his salt would pick it apart in a heartbeat. And the Lakelanders are most definitely worth their salt.

“Idiots,” I cough. I clap my hand over my mouth as if to force it back in but it’s out and there is no way of getting it back in again. No way of taking it back.   
The King turns in his head so quickly I fear he might get whiplash. Prince Tiberias’ shocked amber eyes meet my own. The Queen’s piercing stare turns to look at me, that azure gaze burning me and freezing me at the same time. I can feel her trying to seize hold of my brain, attempting to shatter it. She can’t, but it’s funny to see her try to seize my impregnable mind. Prince Maven’s cerulean eyes, though filled with shock, also contain blatant curiosity. The Silver lords around the table look at each other in shocked silence. The silence is thick, heavy, like the air has been replace by oil or honey.

“Say that again..” The King’s voice is barely human, filled with so much anger and injured pride it comes out as a wild bellow. He is frantic, his tawny eyes looking more red than gold. They look, I think, like flickering flames. Just like the element he controls. I make a show of quaking in my useless boots, but I can tell that Elara isn’t taken in.   
The King gives a signal, and Prince Tiberias steps forward, yanking my arm to him and setting his hands aflame. He presses his hand against my against my neck, decorating it with flickers of orange, red and gold. I know he expects me to scream; they all do. But I don’t scream. I’ve gone through this a thousand times, withstood the burning flames and walked away with not a mark on me. I send a wave of black flames back at the Prince, sending him reeling, golden eyes full of shock. He retaliates with a barrage of dancing red swirls, catherine wheels with deadly intent. I call water and ice to my hand and eradicate all Tiberias’s efforts. He stands there, panting and stupefied. I raise an arrogant eyebrow in challenge, daring him to go on.

The Queen lays a hand on her husband’s arm. Her silken voice breaks through his tirade of rage, soft and lethal as a hidden knife. “Now, dear, let us not lose our minds. Your anger is frightening the girl,” the Queen leans forward in her chair, her ash blonde hair coming loose and hanging in front of her face. Her voice, as opposed to her husband’s irrational temper, is cold and biting as a frozen-over stream in the wintertime. “I believe my husband asked you to repeat what you said, girl. I’d suggest you got on with it.” Her stare transfixes me, blue holding green like a snake with its prey. 

“I said that you’re idiots. The base obviously shouldn’t be to the east. You’ve forgotten to factor in wind speeds, temperature drop and the resulting muscle response. That particular timing and positioning also leaves 90% of the force exposed for bombing or even sniping, if the Lakelanders heard of your plan. Which they certainly, will considering that there’s a double agent in the room. Lord Marinos, I don’t advise making a run for it what with there being a 65% chance you will go home to your family in a shoebox, courtesy of Lord Lerolan to your left. Now, want to explain to your King and Queen how you’ve been feeding the Lakelanders Nortan military plans?” I recite. 

The King looks shocked, turning around in his seat to stare at Marinos, who is looking like a literal fish out of water. Prince Tiberias starts to say, “Father, you can’t seriously believe this Red girl. She must be-“ The Queen’s knife-sharp voice cuts his tirade short. “Tiberias, let the girl speak. I don’t see a reason why she would lie. It doesn’t benefit her. Shall we give her a chance to explain herself? After all, she did rather elegantly disprove your theory, and save thousands of your soldiers’ lives in the process. And the... unusual abilities she displays most definitely need studying. I’d like to see what else she can do.” 

I don’t need to be a Whisper to see that she wants me to explain myself. “Lord Marinos is a wealthy man, yes, but not wealthy enough to afford the cufflinks on his shirt, which are made from a very specific kind of gold - one only ever found in the Lakelands. How can I tell? I cleaned his cufflinks once, got a little curious, ran some chemical identification tests and voila. The Lakelands also have more solar exposure due to being closer to the North Pole which has a thinner atmosphere, hence the tan lines around his wrists. The date on his watch is right, but not the time, suggesting you just got back from a long trip and haven’t had time to change it back. There’s a smudge of blue ink around his left wrist, which hasn’t been completely rubbed off. A royal identification signet, perhaps. He’s tried to hide it under his sleeve, suggesting an attempt at secrecy, but not a very good one. The carelessness suggests he’s been doing this for a long time but isn’t bothered to hide it very well because he’s done this a lot without getting caught. Not really surprising, though. They didn’t even know they had a leak.” The Queen raises an eyebrow, but the small smile playing on the edges of her mouth betrays her pleased surprise. “Sentinels, take Lord Marinos away, please.”

The next few hours is a blur of Elara placating the King’s storming rage, the King and Prince Tiberias firing off question after question, trying to see if I am trustworthy, the Lords’ shocked reactions and Prince Maven’s strangely appraising glances. All of this, of course is punctuated by waiting. Lots and lots of waiting. 

By the time they have reached a decision, my neck is stiff and sore from sleeping upright and my feet have a severe case of pins and needles. 

I am led to the throne room, richly decorated in red, black and silver standards. The King sits on his ridiculous throne with the Queen reclining on her much more tasteful one next to him. She seems to have won whatever argument they were having over me. I can only hope that’s good. “Athera Calynn, we have witnessed today a phenomenon never seen before by this world - a Red with Silver abilities. Not only that, but you appear to possess more than one. Would you care to explain yourself?” rumbles King Tiberias, looking as if the weight of the world has fallen on his shoulders. It has always rested there, I suppose, but now he seems to have realised how heavy that burden is. 

“Yes, Your Majesties. To save yourselves a lengthy explanation, allow me to put it simply. My creation was not something natural. Rather, I am a fabrication of Lakelander science and experimentation. Since my childhood, I have been tested on by the Lakelanders’ scientists, trying to imbue Reds with abilities. I was... I was the first test. They subjected me to torture and experimentation, during which I somehow acquired multiple abilities. They feared me too powerful, so the plan was blocked and I was left to die. I didn’t. Obviously. I escaped the Lakelands and came to Norta, where I managed to secure a job as a maid. And now, here I stand.” I say. 

“How can we be sure that you are to be trusted? You did, after all, admit to be a Lakelander by your own volition.” the Queen murmurs. 

“I realise I am not exactly somebody you’d be predisposed to trust. I suggest reading my thoughts - don’t worry, I’ll allow you in. But only to fact check; if I see you’re touching things you oughtn’t I can and will shut your conscience inside my mind forever. And I assure you, you won’t get out. Are we clear?” I cut back. The Queen’s nostrils flare. I can tell she doesn’t like common reds telling her what to do, but she understands that those are the only terms I’ll accept. She’s a hard negotiator, but I’m harder. After all, I was built that way. 

Her cold presence slithers into my mind like an icy sea lapping at a stone fortress. I open my mind and suddenly her presence is everywhere and I find myself unable to control anything as she tears through my memories, everything from my parents’ negligence to the experimentation to the present day. I feel the shock and sadness radiate off her consciousness in waves; unexpectedly large amounts of empathy for a Silver, and especially for one like her. She’s a good actress. The emotionless mask she wears in public, the front she puts up, is not really who she is. She cares. Deeply. About her son and her family. But the world, the treacherous world that we live in, cannot be allowed to see that.

Elara exits my mind and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. The Queen has tears in those blue eyes and she’s breathing hard. Her husband, of course, doesn’t notice anything amiss. But his wife looks at me with unprecedented sympathy, and from then on I know I have found an ally in this tumultuous court. King Tiberias cuts in, clearly having decided that his Queen’s lack of communication corroborates my innocence: “I confess myself unable to decide what to do with you. I therefore hand you over to the care of my wife and Queen, Her Majesty the Queen Elara. You will do exactly as she says. Is that clear?”

I nod mutely. 

“I believe her abilities - at the very least, the ones she knows about - would make her a perfect Chief Tactician, Royal Executioner and also, perhaps, an assassin. I would, of course, take care of her training and she would be sent out on black ops when we needed her to be. Does that please his Majesty?” the Queen interjects, breaking her silence. 

“It does,” he answers. 

And that is that. I do wonder, later on, how they managed to smooth over the issue of my blood. After all, I’m a Red through and through, right down to my fading dark hair and tired green eyes. But when the week of initiation begins, nobody seems to mind. I wonder what Elara has done, what she’s said to people, how she’s manipulated the Silvers but people treat me with cordial respect, even if they do mutter unkind words under their breath. Everyone knows I am Elara’s ward, and nobody wants to cross the Whisper Queen.


	2. Athera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So my idea with this fic is that it starts off with all the characters being around twelve/thirteen when they first meet. Maven has just come back from the war front in the first chapter, and the repercussions from the death of his friend Thomas will cause him to latch on to Athera quite fast. Athera herself has a bit of problems with trusting people, but the friends she makes in this chapter will pass the test, so to speak. Evangeline is such and interesting character, and I feel like her sarcasm would draw her to Athi quite easily. Elane is just a ray of sunshine that can be surprisingly fierce, and Elara has a surprising hidden affectionate side that Athera brings out. I appreciate a lot of these characters are quite OOC, especially Cal (who in this fic will be a complete jerk) but the idea was too fun to pass up.

A jam-packed schedule is thrust into my hand, printed on crisp white parchment. I am still unused to the rigorous training and conditioning I must go through, but my body adapts quickly and my abilities are getting slowly further and further under control. 

_ Dear Athera, _

_ 0900 - Protocol, 1100 - Lessons, 1300 - Brunch in Sun Room, 1500- Training, 1800 - Shower and Free Time, 2000, Dinner in Main Dining Hall. _

_ HRH Queen Elara _

_ Schedule is non-negotiable _

The Red maids come in, ducking their bowed heads gently as they pull my hair into a delicate updo and helping me into what must be the most colossal dress I’ve been in since I’ve gotten here. It’s wine-red, voluminous silk, and despite my many months at the palace I still marvel at the feel of the delicate fabric. The delicate embroidery on the bodice is probably my favourite part, though, with black roses working their way around the stiff structure.

I lose myself in the feeling of the maids’ hands and the makeup brushes. I think makeup is useless, especially during training, where I sweat buckets. Yet Queen Elara insists on me wearing at least a little, to keep up appearances.

Elara is practically my only friend at court, where so many oppose my blood and fast elevation. But the rumour of my unmasking of a Lakelander spy (evidently spread by Elara and her many spies) has made the murmurs of dissent die down a little, and of course the Queen’s favouritism is clearly a mark in my favour.

The Lakelander spy, Marinos, will face execution at my hand (poetic justice, I suppose) is in one week and I couldn’t be more nervous. The Lady Evangeline Samos and her friends Lady Elane Haven and Lady Sonya Iral have been assigned to help me train, and so far I haven’t done anything to put them off. Samos, Iral and Haven are, after all, three of the most powerful High Houses and I’d hate to make an enemy of them. Evangeline is, to say the least, slightly intimidating and even though I’m skilled her sheer willpower might cause me a few minutes of difficulty. Sonya is as adept as I am at acrobatics and Elane is brilliant at hand-to-hand. 

Lately, Evangeline and Elane have taken to lecturing me about Nortan political alliances. I’m not an idiot- I know that they want an alliance with me, and I am actually quite inclined to accept their friendship. After all, I can’t stay afloat in this court without people who don’t despise me. And as powerful as Elara is, I need other connections.

I am snapped out of my reverie by the soft voice of one of the maids’ voices. 

“You’re ready, Ma’am.” she murmurs.

I thank them and walk out, taking long strides to escape the stuffy room.I know I will be late if I don’t hurry, and I’d rather not incur that Queen’s wrath. The noble girls of the High Houses are gathering for a late breakfast, and I’m there as an envoy for Elara, talking to the people she’s too busy to talk to. They will all be candidates, I’m sure, for Tiberias’ Queenstrial in a few years’ time, and the tension between them will already be strong. Hopefully, it won’t go too wrong. At least I’ll be sitting next to Prince Maven, the Queen’s son, who can at least hold a decent conversation. On my other side will be Evangeline, and next to her Elane. I suspect that this seating has been organised by Elara herself, so as not to have me stranded with people I don’t know or don’t like me.

———-~~~~~~~~———

I screech to a halt in front of the doors just in time. The Sentinels are stoic, but I can sense their disapproval of my unseemly arrival. 

I cross the threshold, trying to muster as much grace as I possibly can, knowing that I can’t show any sign of being flustered or rushed. Silvers have a graceful, leisurely way of simply existing and if I want to survive life at this cutthroat court I must learn to imitate everything that they do automatically. 

I plaster a polite smile on my face, although I’d rather do anything else. I’ve been used to presenting this façade to people, and some days I can’t tell which version of myself I am.

I sit at the table, back straight, elbows off the table. Maven and Elara are already here, though Evangeline and Elane have yet to arrive. When they do, I’m relieved that they haven’t bought Sonya with them. That girl is a thorn in everyone’s side, albeit a talented one but still painful as heck. Evangeline shoots me a rare smile, and Elane beams, benevolent and beautiful. I greet them with a warm grin of my own, and Evangeline, Elane, Maven and I are soon conversing animatedly about everything and nothing. It’s clear to everyone present that an alliance has formed. 

Evangeline smirks as she reaches for her glass. “That girl, over there, in the green dress. She’s Elenorre Viper and she’s supposed to have had a relationship with almost every eligible bachelor at Court. It’s scandalous, really. Though it is tremendously fun to hint at it without her realising anything. I suppose people do like the dumb ones, though.”

I laugh, letting the silent shakes of my giggles take over my body as I try to regain control of my blushing face. Maven raises a dark eyebrow. “ I didn’t know you were a gossip, Evangeline. Of course, though, you’d pick the least disgraceful thing to gossip about. Of course, that story is old news compared to the one about Arrya Macanthos.“ he gestures to a plain, unremarkable girl in a hideously patterned blue and grey dress. ”Apparently, her mother sold so much of her inheritance that she’s stone broke and now she has a part time job working as a _maid._ ”

The rest of the breakfast goes on in a similar fashion, with all three Silver teens recounting the choicest bits of gossip, who was who, the people to challenge, the people to avoid (namely, Sonya Iral) and other entertaining topics.

It’s possible that these people could even become friends, given time. I don’t form attachments easily, but I can feel my walls slowly coming down. Evangeline is wickedly funny, her sharp tongue easily making fun of everyone here. Elane is practiced and poised in conversation as only a Silver can be. Maven is just about the most fascinating person I’ve ever met, teasing and mean and informal and intelligent all at once. They’re all witty, charming, graceful. But it will take more than that for me to trust them. I have to remember who I am, what’s been done to me, how weak I am in comparison to these Silvers who have spent years training and controlling their abilities, while my hold on my own abilities is tremulous at best.

When the gathering adjourns, it’s time for training. I feel my entire being sag in relief. Training is what I’m good at, what I can lose myself in without worrying about keeping up appearances.

——~~~~~——

I pull on the stretchy black suit my guard hands me. The arms aren’t marked, specifically, but there are swirls of the Calore red, silver and black, mixed with Merandus navy and white. It couldn’t be a more blatant statement. I am under the protection of two High Houses (perhaps more, since Evangeline and Elane’s house colours are also incorporated) and anyone who dares touch me will face retaliation. It’s a reassuring thought. Kind of. 

I smile at the Sentinel who brings me in. He’s a cousin of Evangeline’s, I think, and he’s got her teasing demeanour, and the same black eyes. Those dark eyes crinkle in a grin as we draw closer to the doors of the Training arena. 

As soon as I walk in, everyone’s eyes snap to me. I can hear a group of strong arms laughing in the corner about how weak, how scrawny I look. They’re quickly silenced by Evangeline’s glare. I smirk up at her gratefully, and she returns it, dark eyes dancing with mirth. Elane soon comes to stand by my side, engaging all our little group in conversation. 

“So, Athi - can I call you Athi? - what’re you going to do today? Eve and I are hoping for a training match, do want one? Arven holds you in high regard, after all, and maybe if you ask we might be able to actually do one! Oh, I love sparring.” Elane’s rapidfire speech takes me entirely by chance, stunning me with the speed she is capable of talking. I respond uncertainly, “It’s not true that Arven regards me highly, and yes, I’d actually love to spar. Finally something I’m good at, for a change.”

Elane’s comical shock has both me and Evangeline grinning, while Maven sits and surveys us, smirking in that endearingly infuriating way of his. “That’s not true!” Elane gasps, scandalised. “You’re good at plenty of things. You’re good at talking. You’re good at gymnastics, and tactics and Lessons and a lot of other things besides. I don’t want to hear those words come from your mouth again, got it?” She asks, surprisingly fierce for someone so small and gentle. 

“I think she gets it, Laney.” Maven’s sarcastic remark has Eve snorting out a laugh in a most unladylike way, and Elane flushes silver from head to toe. I glare playfully at Maven, which he responds to by sticking out his tongue. I laugh slightly. Maven’s childishness is refreshing in a court full of serious adults. 

The doors bang open, admitting Prince Tiberias to the Training room. All the Silver children in the room look up at him as he strides into the room. I feel Maven stiffen beside me, his envy clear. I take his hand and squeeze it, trying to get him to calm down. 

Tiberias makes his way over to our little group, smiling infuriatingly. I keep a tight hold of Maven’s hand, hoping and praying his brother won’t do anything to set him off. Tiberias smiles. “How are you this morning, Mavey? Ready for some training?”

Maven somehow forces a smile on his face. “Yes, of course. I’m hoping we’ll get to spar. You?” 

Cal grins at his brother. “You know I am.”

“Laps.” A voice behind me whispers. We immediately get into lines, Maven heading one, Tiberias the other. We start running, Maven and Cal battling for first place. I smirk and pile on the speed, overtaking both. I stick my tongue out at Maven as I pass him, and I hear him mutter various obscenities from behind me. I spin and dodge the moving walls around me with ease. Most aren’t so lucky. By the end of the run, only me, Eve, Elane, Maven, Tirana Osanos, Sonya Iral and Cal have avoided being winded.

By the time we’re done, I’m bone tired, Eve and Elane are panting, Cal is sweating and Maven has run out of breath with which to swear. 

Arven directs us towards a projectile machine. He stares at us, then his pale eyes settle on me. I gaze back, trying to convey my thoughts. Apparently, it works.

“Lady Calynn, you first. Please demonstrate for the rest of the group. Any abilities you see fit.”

I nod, stepping forward. The machine whirrs lightly and I start swinging my arm back and forth, rocking on the balls of my feet. The first projectile whizzes out towards me and I meet it in midair with a great ball of black fire. The next one, I greet with a bolt of ice, the next with a highly concentrated spray of water. The Silver children look on, astonished. Maven smirks. He’s already seen what I’m capable of. I’m just relieved my abilities obeyed me so readily. As I sit down, Eve shoots me a thumbs up and Elane grins, revealing her crossed fingers.   


———-~~~~~~~~———

As we walk out of the Training centre, Maven nudges my shoulder. “You showed them, eh? You even showed up Cal. Cocky bastard had it coming, though. Right?”

I smirk back. “It did feel good. The look on your brother’s face, though. I wish someone had taken a picture.” 

Maven stops so suddenly I almost crash into him. “But someone  _ did  _ take a picture of that. Even better - a video!”

———-~~~~~~~~———

A few minutes later, Maven, Evangeline, Elane and I are squeezed into a small room filled with massive computer monitors. Maven clicks a few buttons, andthe Training room appears before our eyes. There’s me, shooting fireballs and hurricanes at the metal projectiles. There’s Maven, grinning proudly. Eve and Elane are both smirking somewhat triumphantly, almost as if to boast about their alliance with me. Then there’s Cal, jaw clenching and eyes bugging slightly. Maven clicks another button and a paper copy shoots out of the small machine at the end of the room. I’m amazed, seeing as this sort of technology could never be available to Reds. Maven presses the button a few more times and soon Eve, Elane, Maven and I all have our own copies of this photograph. I hang it on my bare wall, sniggering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be big - it’s Athi’s birthday! We’ll definitely be seeing more of Cal. Apologies to all you Cal lovers.
> 
> PS: Maven in this fic will be quite different since he’s supported by a small group of friends who actually see him, especially Athi. The Betrayal (yes, it’s in capitals) will still happen, but the machanics will be quite different.


	3. Athera, Maven, Athera, Elara, Athera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athera has a birthday, a scare and a talk.

I am rudely awakened by a heavy weight flopping onto my legs. I sit up groggily only to see Evangeline, chin in hand, dark eyes looking at me expectantly.

“What?” I groan, trying to escape from her vicelike hold on my legs.

Evangeline huffs in annoyance. “Honestly, why do I even bother being friends with you? It’s your birthday, idiot. Elane is downstairs with Maven at breakfast, and you’re late. So that means I have to help you get ready,” she summons my robe from the bathroom, supported by two metal hooks that were once my hairpins “and seeing as the Queen herself is going to be at your party, we have to make sure it’s fabulous. Got it? Good. Now, get in the shower, dammit!”

———-~~~~~~~~———

Showered and ready, I walk down to breakfast, Evangeline leading the way. The Sentinels open the doors to the Sun Room, decorated in the lavish colours of Houses Calore, Merandus, Samos and Haven. There’s a delicate spread of food, each one perfectly aligned with my taste. No prizes for guessing who organised that. Maven really does pay attention when he needs to. 

Elara sits on the right of head of the table, Maven on the left. An empty chair (for Evangeline, I presume) stands next to her and Elane and Maven chatter away to the left. I look around in confusion. There aren’t any other seats, other than at the head of the table. That’s traditionally reserved for the King, should he decide to turn up. But when Elara gestures to me to sit there, I realise that it’s for me. 

Maven grins at me. I realise he’s nervous. “Do you like it? I’ve never planned a birthday party before. Of course the actual party is this evening but-“

I cut him off before he starts rambling. “I love it,” I say “although it’d be hard not to love my first birthday party.” 

Maven goes still. Then he gives me that arrogant smirk and says “well, then this has to be the absolute best party ever.“ 

I grin back. “That it does, my prince. That it does.”

The rest of the morning goes on like this, and I find myself wishing it’d never end. But when midday comes, I realise that I have an engagement to keep. But when I get up to leave, Elane grabs my wrist in an iron hold and frowns at me. 

“And where exactly do you think you’re going?” She asks, blue eyes flashing dangerously.

I frown. “To a meeting. Prince Tiberias and I have ‘something to discuss’, according to him. It’ll take only half and hour, tops.” 

“Fine,” Elane spits reluctantly, “but come straight back afterwards.”

I smirk. “I highly doubt I’ll be spending more time than necessary with the Prince. I’d fear for my brain cells if I do.”

“And for your sharp tongue. Cal’s not exactly a master of words.” Maven adds, rolling his eyes.

“As opposed to you, I suppose?” I tease.

“Of course.” He says, quirking an eyebrow.

We all descend into laughter, sniggering and snorting until Elara gets enough of a hold on herself to scold us halfheartedly. 

I muffle my laughter and swipe at my eyes. It’s been so long since I last laughed. 

“But really, I do have to go.” 

———-~~~~~~~~———

I meet Cal outside the War Command building, squinting my eyes against the glaring sun. It’s strange, seeing the building in which I spend most of my time and not going in, but Cal leads me away as we begin to talk. It’s nothing of consequence, but for some reason Cal seems on edge. When we reach a small storage room in the less lavish side of East Archeon, the reason is revealed. 

“Stupid Red girl, running around telling your betters, adult Silvers, the King, what to do. You’re not going to survive in this court, and your stupid outburst at the War Room isn’t going to keep you afloat. You embarrassed me in front of my father - me, the future King! Well, freak, you aren’t any longer.” he hisses at me. 

I arch an eyebrow at him the way I’ve seen Elara do so many times. “You don’t need me to embarrass you - you do it well enough by yourself.” 

Something in him snaps, and flames burst into life around him.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but I have to protect the balance of power in this country. It’s my duty.”

He grabs my arm and shoves me into the small room behind me, perfect teeth bared in anger. This is no longer the calm, kindly prince everyone sees - here, in private, with no cameras, he has become something ugly, untamed and brutal. A perfect parallel of Silver nature.

As the door slams shut, something in the dark room scuttles over my foot. I fling it away with as much force as I can, and I hear something heavy hit the far wall. Trying to get a hold on my thumping heart, I summon the biggest flame I can. It’s about the size of a candle.  Great .

But as small as the light is, my eyes can still make out a dark, seething mass of dark hairy legs at the other end of the small room. I realise what it is. Cal has trapped me in a room of spiders. The flashback takes me before I have time to scream.

———-~~~~~~~~———

(Warning - contains blood)

_The white room is gleaming, as ever. There is no evidence of my suffering, no evidence the blood that has been spilt on these shining tiles. I try to open my eyes, but the blood crusting my eyelashes makes it near impossible. Through semi- closed eyes, I see blurry outlines of tables and lab equipment. I know this landscape well - it never changes. An attempt to make me bored, perhaps. Five year olds get bored easily. But I’ve always been able to entertain myself by living in my own head. It’s one of the things I was most punished for by my parents._

_ Suddenly, a spray of icy water hammers down on my head, washing away most of the crusted blood on my face. When I’ve stopped sputtering, I catch sight of the outline of Lord Eskariol, the Chief Scientist. His expressionless visage immediately has me fearing the worst. As a skin healer, he can quickly and efficiently tear me to pieces, then heal me, not changing me back to normal but into a better, more skilled, more flexible, tougher version of myself. I hate him with a passion.  _

_ When he smiles, it’s hard not to grimace at the disgusting state his teeth are in. They are a dark brown colour, the edges brokendown by sugar and acidic food. His voice is just as broken, grating on my ears. _

“ _We have a new surprise for you, girl. Want to see what it is?” He sneers._

_ I shake my head as best as I can. I know the surprise won’t be a good one. _

_ He grins and motions to one of the guards outside the door. The fear and the smell of blood invading the room was slowly suffocating me, choking the life out of me. As soon as the scientist opens the cage the guard brought him, he springs back, running for the exit. What in there could be so terrible that even a Silver runs without thinking? _

_ The smell of blood gets stronger, and my ears start ringing like I’d just gotten on a flying machine - those things make awful noise, apparently. My thoughts distract me, distract me to the extent that I don’t see the small black creatures crawl and scurry out of the metal box. When I do see them, they’ve reached me, and the wave of spiders sweeps my breath away, the stinging pain of their barbed legs and razor sharp fangs on my skin making me want to scream. But if I do open my mouth, they’ll go in, and who knows the pain I’ll be in then. So I keep still and quiet while the spiders’ venom enters my bloodstream. I keep still while they bite at my face, while their legs run over my closed eyes. _

_Next comes the worst part. The smell of Eskariol’s decaying breath hits me like a tidal wave as he takes hold of my face. The bloody scraps of flesh that are my face, anyways. With a snap of his fingers, my flesh reassembles, the muscles becoming stronger, the tendons more flexible. The arteries that were infected with the spider venom become even more resistant, the pain evaporating. But I know what has happened to my skin, to my face. I’ve changed_. _My bone structure slightly altered, my skin different. My teeth sharper, whiter, my eyes greener, lashes longer, whatever they think is necessary to make me look both beautiful and deadly. I wish I looked the way I did before, with my uneven_ skin _and dull, shortsighted eyes. Pain pierces my arm as Eskariol injects the fluid - I don’t know what it is, or what it does, but I know it hurts like hell. Eventually, Eskariol finishes and drops me to the floor. I lie there, exhausted, until an uneven and rocky sleep claims me in its arms._

———-~~~~~~~~———

I’ve lost the will to scream any longer - if anyone was going to find me, they would’ve by now. I wonder if this will be how they find my body, years from now, since surely nobody checks these storage lockers. A bone-thin, decaying corpse, crawling over with spiders. 

———-~~~~~~~~———

Athera’s been gone for hours. Even Mother’s worried, and that almost never happens. Evangeline is just itching to get out of her chair to go looking for her, but a stern glance from her older brother keeps her seated, reminding her that they cannot leave without the Queen’s permission. When Mother stands up, Evangeline springs to her feet, eager as a bloodhound. Elane follows, hot on her tail. I rise slowly, trying to exercise some self control, but my impatience gets the better of me and I race to the door. What stops me, though, is my mother’s stern voice.

“Children, children. You mustn’t go racing off to find you friend alone. Allow the Sentinels to do it. That’s what they’re for, after all.” 

Evangeline has always been impulsive, and it shows. “Your majesty, you simply must let us look for Athera, please!” 

Mother turns on her slowly, lips pressed in a thin line. “I wasn’t aware that little children got to tell the Queen what to do. From now on, Lady Samos, I’d suggest that you left the searching to the professionals.”

Evangeline drops her head, cowed, as Mother barks out orders at the Sentinels.

I can only pray that they find her. I can’t lose another friend. Not again.

———-~~~~~~~~———

When the door bursts open hours later, I don’t react. I can’t. My vocal chords, so tired from screaming for help, cannot make a sound. My hands, bruised and bloody from pounding on the door, will not respond to my brain signals. My shoulder is battered, bits of bone sticking out, from where I tried to break down the metal door. But I don’t care. The utter terror invading my mind, making the flashbacks play on a loop, numbs the pain. The physical pain, anyways. The ghost of past scars and injuries haunt me, forbidding me from moving or uttering a word. The Sentinel picks me up effortlessly. I must weigh less than a feather to him. The last thing I think before I black out is that he must be a strongarm or he shouldn’t be able to move so fast with a twelve-year-old in his arms.

———-~~~~~~~~———

When the Sentinel dashed into the room, a bloody, unconscious and bruised Athera in his arms, I feel something I’ve never felt before. The horror, perhaps, of losing someone. I’ve never felt that fear other than when Tiberias sent Maven to the war front, tearing my child from my arms as he pleaded with me not to let him go. Immediately, I surge forward out of my chair. Athera’s eyes don’t open. I find myself very afraid that they never will. 

“Get her to the healers. Right this instant.” I snap, and the Sentinel rushes off, Athera looking like a broken rag doll in his arms.

———-~~~~~~~~———

I wake up slowly, vision dancing with twirling lights that make my head spin. Wherever I am smells overwhelmingly of cleaning fluid. The ringing in my ears makes it hard to concentrate on anything, and the bedsheets below me are scratchy and crude. It’s difficult to make out anything definite, but I think I see a pair of blue eyes looking into mine. When my vision clears, I see that is the case. Maven’s tired face comes into focus, bags under his eyes and lips chewed until they bleed silver blood. When I open my eyes, he lets out what can only be described as a sigh of the utmost relief. His grin, his irrepressible grin, returns to its rightful place on his face. I shoot back a small smile of my own.

“So, what the fuck made you decide to camp out in a room full of spiders?” He says, making me smile weakly.

“Maybe the fact your brother pushed me in?” I answer, watching as his face goes from relieved to hateful in the space of a few seconds.

“Someone like that shouldn’t be king.” He says, brows furrowing.

“No, he shouldn’t.” I say, and we sit there in silent accord for a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooh. That one was HARD to write. Sorry it took so long to publish.


	4. Athera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I have absolutely no posting schedule and no work ethic whatsoever, this chapter came very late. Oops... sorry! But this chapter is long(ish)... (I think...) but I love the Elara character development and this is also where the main RQ story comes into play. Or at least, the beginning of it.

The shadows wrap around my feet at my command, working their way up my body until I’m completely hidden from view.My control has slowly gotten better, but this new skill is unpredictable at best. The darkness has long been my friend, but I’ve never attempted something like this before now; and sure enough, I only manage to hold it for a few minutes before my control wavers and the shadows disappear, fleeing to the corners of the room.

Maven pushes open the door to my room, frowning at the obvious signs of sleep deprivation on my face. 

“Can’t sleep either?” He asks, one dark eyebrow raised.

“No.”

He nods slightly, running long pale fingers over my desk, swathed in plans and documents. 

“You really have to start sleeping a little more, you know.”

I snort gently. “So says the guy who’s awake at the exact same time as me.” 

“Touché.” We relapse into comfortable silence. The wind plays with my curtains, picking up the light fabric and tossing it around delicately. I stare at it, transfixed. It’s been a few months since I became friends with Maven and got this job, but I feel as if I’ve known him for years. Between insomnia, nightmares, enemies and friendships, I’ve come to trust him, to know him more than I’ve ever trusted or known anybody else, even Eve and Elane. I’d thought I could never trust anyone again - apparently, I was wrong. For some insane reason, on some completely unknown whim, I have decided to place my trust in this broken, manipulative unstable boy. And I know he trusts me too.

“Nightmares?” Maven’s voice shakes me out of my reverie, returning me to reality. His blue eyes burn like fire in the grey moonlight. I nod slightly, and he understands, wordlessly, that I don’t want to talk about them. That I’m not ready. Not yet. 

So all he does is the standard procedure - calls a maid and orders some light snacks then flops, face down, onto my bed as soon as she’s gone. I giggle slightly at his soft “oohf” as he lands. His smug face grins up at me, and I sit down next to the Silver prince, rolling my eyes. 

We talk until the dawn, yawns growing louder and more frequent the more time we spend in each other’s presence. I know Maven depends on me more than is healthy, and I on him. I just don’t care. He helps the nightmares and the fear go away, and I’m a rock for his already unstable mind. We’re each better when the other is present, and both of us crave that.

When we fall asleep, it’s by each other’s side. He keeps my nightmares in check, and I his. So when he bolts up blue eyes wide with whatever terror plagued his dreams, rousing me from my painful sleep, we hold each other. It’s all we can do.

This is routine for us now, to help each other through the night. It’s been happening since I ran into his room by accident one night and found him sobbing quietly into his pillow. When I held his shaking body to my chest, and sang him to sleep.

———-~~~~~~~~———

_ Time skip around 4 years _

———-~~~~~~~~———

I hate First Friday. It’s an endless parade of cameras, speeches, fights and a waste of my time. But the queen insists that I go, and I’m not one to deny the woman I think of as almost a mother at this point. Certainly a mother figure. This particular Friday, though, is worse than I originally thought it would be. The sweltering heat is almost unbearable, despite the conditioned air and icy drinks, and the fights are uneventful. Listlessly, I stare down at the Red crowd below us, wearing tattered robes and threadbare hats to keep off the sun. I slouch in my velvet lined seat and let my thoughts wander. I need to finish about three military reports for the King, I have to re-draft my representatives’ speech for the Piedmontese ambassador and also run through- nope, better not think about that. Not with so many of Elara’s nosy Merandus relatives just a few seats away. It’s better done in the privacy of my rooms, or Maven’s, or better yet, Elara’s. 

Maven. He’s pretty much the only one who makes everything bearable, along with Elara, Eve and Elane. My circle of trusted friends hasn’t really grown in the last four years, but the majority of the Silver population has at least accepted me. Amazing what a manipulative Whisper can do with a silver tongue and a little bit of time.

One person she cannot sway to our side, however, is Cal. My hand clenches by my side as I think of him, all his painful putdowns and deep-rooted jealousy. Maven shoots me a concerned look, and I return it with a small, strained smile of my own. He sighs back, looking for all the world like a bear with a sore head. If there’s one person who hates these events more than I do, it’s Maven. I know that if he were ever King, he’d ban them out of hand. 

If Maven were King. I can’t help but think how much better suited Maven is to rulership than his older brother is. Cal is too arrogant, too self assured to lead a country. He has no way with diplomacy, no particular wit with words. He’s not a politician - he’s a soldier. He would not end the war peacefully. There’s no complexity in his way of thinking, no compromise in his manner. He is gullible, not able to spot a lie if it hit him in the face. He moulds himself off his drunkard father, who dotes on him but has lead Norta to new lows during his reign. His father, who disregards his brilliant, beautiful second son to spend time with the offspring of his late first wife. 

I hate First Friday. I have far too much time with my thoughts.

———-~~~~~~~~———

“Ambassador! How lovey to see you again. And Lord Keller and Lady Azhara as well. I hope your quarters are to your liking?” Elara’s honeyed voice greets the foreign dignitaries, every syllable carefully calculated to produce maximum effect. Elara’s ability really does suit her; she’s an expert in manipulating people’s minds, thoughts and words. Being a whisper, I suppose, is just helping that natural talent. No wonder she’s so respected at court. 

The ambassador returns the pleasantries, benevolent smile plastered on his face. Hopefully, the entertainment we have provided will not disappoint him. I know full well how effective the good opinion of an ambassador can be in relations between countries, and there is no question that both Norta and Piedmont need the alliance between us to flourish. Without the support of Piedmont and all its supplies, our war effort would be considerably crippled. 

Absorbed in my thoughts, I haven’t realised our group has started walking until we have arrived in the Spiral Gardens. I frown slightly in confusion, then realise that Maven’s hand has closed around my wrist and has been surreptitiously pulling me along for the entire journey. I shoot the dark haired prince a grateful smile, which he returns with a barely audible whisper of “ _ you owe me one.” _

I roll my eyes at him, an expression I am far too familiar with when dealing with Maven. “ _Not a chance, ”_ I murmur back. 

“Lady Calynn, may I just congratulate you again on your skilful negotiations? You will, I’m sure, be an instrumental piece in the war effort against the Lakelands.” The ambassador’s nasal tones cut through our silent conversation. 

I know the ambassador doesn’t really like me at all, but he’s too afraid of Elara to go against me, no matter the colour of my blood. But all the same, I know my part in this political play, so I respond. “You are very kind, Ambassador. You overestimate my contributions, though, I’m sure. All I did was talk.”

He smiles falsely back. “But you talk so very well indeed. You, I suspect, would make a very good diplomat indeed.” 

“Thank you, Your Excellency. I aim only to serve my King and Queen.” I give a standard reply, dimpling and smiling at the man. I cannot help but notice how much gel he puts in his hair. It’s almost a mirror.

“You do very well to aim for that, my lady. It is, of course, befitting of your station to do so.” 

Maven sucks in a silent breath behind me. Elara’s lips purse. I knew the man didn’t like me, but that was a low blow. The comment is double sided, so nobody can technically reprimand him for it; but everyone present can understand what he’s trying to insinuate. My station, in his eyes, is nothing more than a servant, a Red. But to the untrained ear, it could easily be passed off as referring to my station as a lady. All I do is raise an eyebrow and reply “Yes, Your Excellency. A lady of the court does well to serve her monarchs. Is that not right, my Queen?”

“Yes, of course,” Elara pronounces, tone mild but eyes blazing a with deep blue fire. “We place great trust in Lady Calynn. Her help and relentless efforts leave us quite indebted to her.” Her eyes narrow infinitesimally as she says this, making the ambassador squirm slightly. He obviously doesn’t know what to do. He cannot take this in his stride as if nothing ever happened, as that might offend Elara more than he already has. He cannot apologise, either, because that would be admitting he meant to cause offence. He settles for a light bow and asks to retire to his chambers. The King grants him leave, and the blond idiot scurries away from the group. 

Maven lets out a frustrated sigh as soon as he is out of sight. “Who does he think he bloody is, talking to you like that?  Befitting of your station! I can’t believe the nerve.”

“I think it was well deserved, brother. Her aims are befitting of her station. A Red should aim to serve, after all. Isn’t that their purpose?” Cal interjects, sneering.

Maven’s hands ball into fists as he glares at his brother. Cal raises a condescending eyebrow back. Luckily for everyone, though, Elara steps in. 

“A slight against anyone working for the Burning Crown of Norta should not be tolerated, Tiberias. Surely you know that?” 

Cal flushes white, muttering that it “wasn’t what he meant”.Elara nods, then gestures to me and Maven to follow her back to her rooms.

———-~~~~~~~~———

As soon as we get into her apartments, Maven smashes a vase with his fist. Cal’s comment obviously stung, and I can’t blame him for being angry. I am, too. 

“Tsk tsk, Maven dear. Control, if you please.” 

After a muttered “yes, mother,” Maven drops onto the massive bed in the centre of the room. I stick my tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes back. But he’s smiling again, which his what matters. Not a stupid ambassador, not idiotic closed-minded Cal. And it’s worth even the look from Elara that tells both of us to behave more maturely. We don’t listen - it’s mostly done out of habit at this point anyways.

“I’m so sick of stupid Cal making those comments then just getting away with it like he’s done nothing wrong. I mean, come on! Can nobody see how-“ 

“Yes, Maves, we’ve heard this before. Now come on. Nothing’s gonna happen if you don’t _make_ it happen.” I cut across.

Elara regards me with a smile. “Well said, Athera dear. Now, to business. Overly complicated plans never work; too many variables and something always goes wrong. People are unreliable, which is why only those in this room and a few trusted others will ever know the full truth.”

Maven and I nod along as Elara lays out her idea. When she finishes, the only thing I can think to say is, “how long have you been planning this?”

She smiles sadly, sapphire gaze as soft as I have ever seen it. “A very long time, child. That’s all you need to know.” Her eyes look misty, like sea foam sprayed over glass. She’s fragile, I realise, so lonely, so isolated from everyone else, trapped in a marriage with a man who never gives her a second glance in favour of his son with a dead woman and not hers, or other ladies of the court. But perhaps fragile isn’t the right word for her. She has steel, determination. She is ruthless, intellectually brilliant and witty. She’s powerful, in more ways than one. But so, so heartbreakingly alone in the viper’s nest that is Norta’s court. 

So I do the only thing I can do, to try and show this broken diamond of a woman just how much I care about the only mother I’ve ever known. I reach across and hug her.

She stiffens in my grip. I wonder if she knows what to do, whether she’s ever been hugged before. But eventually she softens, and places her hands around me too. And when I feel another warm most press against my own, I realise Maven has joined in. And in that moment, my family is complete. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hope you like that... it’s First Friday, so the RQ book retelling (ft. Athera) has officially begun.


End file.
